


Mouth Ripper Salt

by NeveRoyle



Series: Comfort Food (Spacemoose RPF) [2]
Category: Hidden Block (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cooking, Flash Fic, Food, Gen, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12935163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeveRoyle/pseuds/NeveRoyle
Summary: See? There's some romance budding. *grin*I kind of struggled with this one. After two days of editing and rewriting, I had to leave it alone and call it finished. Otherwise, I'd be editing until I couldn't look at the story anymore.It seems that there'll only be flash fics in the series, but I have ideas for longer pieces. I want to get my feet wet again with snapshots of scenes, shorter pieces that are easier to write. It's been years since I've written an actual story. From all the editing I've done over the years, I thought I'd forgotten how to write. It feels like I'm regaining my confidence.





	Mouth Ripper Salt

Touching his latest concoction with bare fingers made Ian nervous. That meant bad news for Jeff.

Swirled about each other in a salad bowl were the shriveled flakes of five hot peppers. White pepper coated the bottom like a dirty seabed. Salt would have been a better choice, but pepper added heat. Heat was crucial to the success of this recipe. Plus Ian thought the white pepper looked cool.

He turned around with the bowl and a playfully menacing grin for his uneasy partner. Jeff stared down at the variegated mess of red, green, and white.

"It looks like someone shredded up Christmas."

"Now there's a festive name. Ian's Mouth Ripper Christmas Salt. 'Give the gift of deep hurting.'"

Ian set the bowl next to the popcorn on the butcher block. With a large soup spoon, he clumsily spread the nightmarish mixture over the puffs. Jeff arched an eyebrow when Ian made an unsatisfied hum.

"I think it looks good," Jeff said.

"It's not about looking good. It's about getting the full effect of the seasoning." Ian took another heaping spoonful and dumped it on the popcorn.

After he finished, he hovered the bowl around Jeff's face, his mouth wide with impish glee. "Eat up, Hammy."

Jeff pushed the bowl back. He shook his head, sending his bangs flying around his wide eyes. "No, you go first. I insist."

"You wanted to help out with my show, so you get to sample my work first."

"You didn't say anything about having to try everything first."

"New rule in effect for criticizing my chopping technique."

"You said to commentate while filming—"

"Now taste."

With a ragged sigh, Jeff dug into the snack. He made a show of grabbing the biggest handful he could, only to pull out a single puff. His skin didn't tingle when it brushed against the pepper flakes. That was a relief. His fox-smile stayed on his mouth until he put the popcorn on his tongue.

All the nerves in his mouth erupted in a fiery pain. A muffled yell vibrated against his clamped lips. He scrambled for the freezer and nearly tore the door off its hinges. Ian's gasping laughter made for annoying ambiance as Jeff sought relief in ice cream. First he scooped with his fingers. When the cold became painful, he took another spoon from the spread of utensils on the butcher block.

He took his time with the dessert. The safe, non-Ian-made dessert. Every spoonful was a gift from heaven, coating his screaming taste buds. The sadistic, scrawny Skeletor stopped laughing, which improved matters, if only by a slim margin.

He put the carton on the butcher block. Growling, he stabbed the vanilla block with the spoon. He turned to glare at Ian but quickly whipped back around as the spoon fell over. He fussed with it until he got fed up and left it resting on top of the ice cream. Ian snorted behind his long fingers. He slipped his fingers from his face, revealing a perfect grin.

Something in Jeff's chest fluttered. Ian could be insufferable and blunt at times, but when he smiled... Man, that smile was real. That was Ian's real humor, real warmth. Okay, this time it was at Jeff's expense, but the man was enjoying himself. How often did he really laugh these days?

"All right, you had your fun," Jeff said, using his best stern tone. "Now you try it. Chef always has to test his own recipes."

"No. I hate spicy stuff."

The fondness fizzled out, replaced by an urge to cram a fistful of mouth ripper popcorn down Ian's gullet.

"Dude, why're you gonna make a hot salt for popcorn if you don't like hot stuff?"

"Hot stuff is the thing now. But I think I'll enjoy something cool, like my ice cream that you just helped yourself to."

Ian took the spoon and licked the small scrap of ice cream the metal had lifted with itself. He furrowed his brow at a surprised Jeff.

"Whuh?" He asked around a mouthful of spoon.

"My mouth was just using that."

"So? I know what your mouth's been doing all day."

"Ugh, whatever. I'm making myself some tea."

Ian enjoyed the ice cream while he set up the camera. Jeff watched from the far end of the kitchen, sipping his hot beverage. Since he started coming over frequently, there was always a stash of mint or Earl Grey. It was a thoughtful gesture. Ian had opened his home and pantry to Jeff, and not just for a cooking series.

He hoped that Ian would one day want to share a pint of ice cream.

**Author's Note:**

> See? There's some romance budding. *grin*
> 
> I kind of struggled with this one. After two days of editing and rewriting, I had to leave it alone and call it finished. Otherwise, I'd be editing until I couldn't look at the story anymore.
> 
> It seems that there'll only be flash fics in the series, but I have ideas for longer pieces. I want to get my feet wet again with snapshots of scenes, shorter pieces that are easier to write. It's been years since I've written an actual story. From all the editing I've done over the years, I thought I'd forgotten how to write. It feels like I'm regaining my confidence.


End file.
